Fate
by qwerty-kitties
Summary: COMPLETE - A late movie. A mugger. A gunshot. What will Helga do? Rated T because I'm paranoid. Deals with character death and then some. DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1

Yes, I realize that the beginning pretty much sucks, but it's like this--sometimes I want to get to the meat of the story without too much 'blah, blah, blah', so this is what happened. I don't really do this anymore, preferring to open stories in the middle of the action to get the reader hooked immediately. But nyah, I wrote this a long time ago, and my style has changed somewhat.

So there you have it. Read the first couple paragraphs fast, like taking medicine. Once they're done, you'll get to the real meat.

Enjoy!

Whoops! Forgot to add that Arnold and friends don't belong to me. Nope. Not mine.

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FATE**

This story takes place a number of years in the future. The kids are all around 15. Phoebe and Gerald are dating, Helga and Arnold aren't. But they all hang around together quite a bit, enjoying each other's company and basically having fun.

Helga is still smitten with Arnold, and she still hasn't told him yet. Arnold has started developing SOME feelings for Helga, but hasn't realized it completely. Basically, they're very good friends who really enjoy each other's company.

The four were walking home from a late movie. Phoebe and Gerald were holding hands, walking slightly in front of Arnold and Helga. They were talking amongst themselves, chatting about this and that. Suddenly, an armed mugger leapt out from an alley, making Phoebe scream.

"Don't try any funny stuff, just give me your money and no one gets hurt," the man said in a low voice. Gerald stepped in front of his girlfriend, who was trembling slightly.

"Okay, man, just calm down," he said, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. Arnold and Helga had caught up with their friends and were shocked to discover what was happening.

"Hey, man you really don't want to do this, do you?" Arnold asked the mugger. The guy whirled to face him, the gun coming dangerously close to Gerald's face.

"Shut up!" he screamed. Helga had an arm around Phoebe, holding her friend as she trembled.

"Arnold, I don't think he wants to talk," Helga said quietly, trying to pull Arnold back. He shrugged out of her grasp, and continued walking toward the gunman.

"Why don't you just turn around and walk away, huh?" Arnold said softly. "We won't tell anyone about this, and you won't get into trouble." Once he was closer, Arnold noticed how young the guy actually was. He couldn't have been more than a few years older than he and his friends.

"C'mon, you really don't want to do this, I can tell," Arnold was saying. He was right in front of the guy now. "Just put that thing away and go."

The gunman's eyes were darting around nervously. This was not the way these things went. The gun was slowly losing its targets, it was pointing to the ground. Arnold smiled and walked forward.

"We won't say anything about this. Just go on. Get outta here," he said softly. The young man looked at Arnold and smiled weakly. That's when things went downhill.

An old car was passing the group, backfiring. The loud, sudden noise startled the gunman, and the weapon rose again, shaking violently. Arnold reached forward to try and calm the guy, but in his panic, the gunman turned on Arnold pointing the gun at him. The car backfired twice more as it slowly passed, but to Helga, one of the backfire's sounded extremely loud. And very close.

She was still holding Phoebe, and when the car passed the slight teen clutched at Helga's shirt. Gerald had moved over to the girls and covered them with his body as much as possible. The gunman ran. Arnold was no where in sight.

Gerald watched the guy run, then turned to the girls.

"Are you two okay?" he asked worriedly. The girls looked at each other, then did a quick inspection of their own bodies. They nodded shakily.

"Where's Arnold?" Helga whispered. Gerald looked where they had last seen him, searching for his friend. He let go of the girls, then started walking toward the alley. When he got there, his dark skin went pale.

"Oh, my god."

Helga and Phoebe exchanged a worried glance, then rushed over to join Gerald. They followed his gaze and their breath stopped in their throats. There was so much blood.

"Oh my god," Gerald repeated, sounding like he was about to pass out. Phoebe looked sick.

"Dear lord . . ." she breathed. They stood stock still, staring. Helga took action.

"Gerald, go and get an ambulance. NOW!" she said, turning her friend to look at her and away from the scene. "Gerald?" He looked at her, not seeing her. She drew her hand back and slapped him. Hard. His head rocked back on his neck, a handprint appearing on his cheek. His eyes cleared.

"OW! Helga! What . . .?" She shook him, twice. The color was, thankfully, returning to his face.

"Listen to me," she said, speaking clearly, enunciating each word. "Take Phoebe and call 911. Get the paramedics here, NOW." For a second she thought he was just going to just stand there staring at her, but then he nodded and grabbed Phoebe's hand.

"Stay with him, Helga!" he shouted as they ran as fast as they could to the nearest phone. "See if you can keep him talking!"

Helga watched them go, then turned back to the alley. She almost didn't want to go in. But her only love was in there. And he was dying. Her courage was quickly fading.

Arnold was lying on the ground, his back facing Helga. There was blood on the ground. A lot of it. He was shaking slightly and she could hear him straining to draw breath. Her tears were coming, she could taste them in the back of her throat. She went to him.

"Arnold?" she called softly. She summoned her remaining courage and turned him over. Her breath stopped for the second time.

His shirt was covered in blood. There was a hole in it, right over his heart. More blood flowed from the wound as she watched, and she placed her hand over it in an attempt to slow it. She looked up at his face and now the tears DID come. He was so pale.

" . . . Helga . . . . cold . . . so . . cold . . . . ."

She knelt beside him, tucking her legs beneath her. She gently pulled his head into her lap, being careful to keep her other hand over his wound. Her tears dropped onto his face, and she wiped them away with a shaky hand. His eyes were still clear, but very scared.

"Oh, Arnold," she whispered, trying to sound brave for him. "Why do you have to be such a do-gooder? Why didn't you just give him the money and be done with it?" He smiled weakly.

" . . . . I gotta . . . be . . me . . ." He coughed, and Helga felt a surge of warm blood rush over her hand. His face was filled with pain.

"Hang on, Arnold, just hang on!" she ordered. "Gerald and Phoebe went for help. They'll be back soon. Just stay with me, please!" She was crying harder now, and Arnold looked up at her almost lovingly.

". . don't cry . . . . Helga . . . . ." He lifted a trembling hand and tried to wipe away her tears. She cried harder. His hand was so cold.

Their eyes met for a moment, saying things that neither friend could say out loud. Then his lost focus, and he relaxed completely. His hand fell away as his chest rose once, twice, then was still. Her beloved was gone.

For a moment, Helga sat and held him, her hand still covering his critical wound. Then she threw her head back and screamed into the night sky.

"ARNOLD!" she cried, turning back to him. "Don't you leave me, don't you DARE! PLEASE, Arnold! I love you, I can't survive without you in my life!"

Her beloved gave no answer. Helga's heart ached with loss. She held him tighter, and began rocking back and forth. Tears covered her face, dropping into Arnold's hair, and onto his cheeks. Slowly, Helga reached up and gently closed his beautiful green eyes.

"Please God," she prayed. "Please dear God in heaven, please bring him back. I love him too much to lose him. I'll do anything if You'll just bring him back." The rest of her pleas were lost in her sobs.

"It's such a shame," a voice said behind her, making her jump slightly. "He was a promising young man. This is such a tragedy." She turned and saw a man coming toward them. He had a narrow face, with gentle eyes. His hair was light brown and short, and he had a certain glow about him. Sort of like an aura.

"Who are you?" Helga sniffled as the newcomer approached them. She cradled Arnold in her arms protectively. "What do you want?" The man smiled tenderly.

"I'm here to make sure Arnold has a smooth journey," he said as he leaned down over the fallen teen. The glow about him was brighter, and Helga's eyes grew large.

"You're an angel, aren't you?" she whispered. "You're here to take his soul to heaven." He smiled.

"I'm whatever you believe me to be. If you think I'm an angel, then that's what I am. My name is Michael."

"If you're an angel, then you can heal him, right?" she asked hopefully. "You can bring him back?" He looked at her sadly.

"I'm sorry, Helga. I don't have the power to bring him back. But I can tell you that his last moments were happy because you stayed with him. You helped him be brave." She looked at him pleadingly.

"Please. I can't live without him. I love him too much to just sit back and let you do this. PLEASE. There must be SOMETHING you can do." He placed a hand on her tear-streaked cheek.

"I'm very sorry, child. But I MUST do this." She shook her head.

"No, there HAS to be another option. What if . . . " Her mind whirled frantically. Her eyes widened as an idea struck her. "What if I took his place?" Michael looked taken aback.

"Helga, I don't think you realize what you're saying." She nodded rapidly.

"I know exactly what I'm saying. An even trade—me for him. You'll bring him back just enough to keep him going until the ambulance gets here, and I'll be classified as a heart attack or something." Her eyes pleaded with him. "PLEASE, Michael. No one will really miss me. But Arnold could do so much . . . he cares so much for people. He's NEEDED. PLEASE."

Michael looked doubtful for a moment, then looked at her intently.

"Are you SURE this is what you want?" he asked. "I can't really guarantee where you'll go. Not everyone goes to heaven right away. You might be stuck in the proverbial 'waiting room' for a while." She shook her head.

"I really don't care where I go. Just as long as he lives."

Michael looked deeply into her eyes. He saw her love for Arnold. It was such and strong and deep love that he gasped slightly.

"You really love him deeply, don't you?" he asked quietly. She smiled.

"More than life itself," she said softly. He smiled and placed his hand on her cheek again.

"You have a good heart, Helga. I'm very sorry I must do this."

"Can I say goodbye to him?" she asked. "Will I . . . have time?" He looked at her sadly.

"Not much, I'm afraid. But he will recover quickly. You will have a few minutes." She smiled.

"That's all I need. Thank you."

"You are very welcome, my child. I only wish I didn't have to do this," he said, looking sad. "Are you ready?" She took a deep breath, held it, let it out.

"Yes."

Michael leaned forward and placed his right hand on Arnold's chest, over his still heart. He placed his left hand on Helga's chest, over her racing one. The glow around him intensified slightly, and Helga felt a slight draining sensation. Michael's left hand (the one on Helga's chest) glowed brightly, then dimmed as his right hand (the one on Arnold's chest) transferred her life into Arnold.

Michael leaned back, looking a little tired. They watched as Arnold's chest rose as his lungs filled with air once more. He took two deep breaths, then coughed. His eyes fluttered open. A look of confusion spread across his face, a face that was regaining color quickly. He sat up, looking from Helga to this man he had never seen before.

"Helga?" he asked, sounding very confused. She leaned forward and hugged him tightly. "What's going on? The last thing I remember is that car going down the street backfiring, then it's kinda fuzzy. What are we doing in an alley?" He slowly hugged Helga back, and noticed how cold she was, even though it was a warm night.

"It's not important, Arnold," she whispered, sounding a little out of breath. She pulled back and Arnold noticed the blood stains on her clothes. His eyes widened.

"What happened!" he cried, taking her hands into his. "Are you all right?" She smiled. He noticed uneasily how pale her skin was.

"It's okay, Arnold. It's not my blood." He was about to ask who's it was when she placed a finger on his lips. "It's kind of a long story and I haven't much time. Arnold, I have something to tell you. Something I've wanted to tell you for a long time."

"What is it?" he asked, sounding worried. She smiled, giving his hands a little squeeze. God, she was so cold!

"I . . ." she trailed off as she felt her heart slow. It was getting harder to breathe. She would have to hurry. "I love you, Arnold. I've loved you since we were little. I just never had the courage to tell you. I love you more than anything, more than everything." He looked at her, his eyes wide. Her fingers were ice cold. Her heart slowed even more.

"Kiss me, Arnold. Please. Just once." He was still looking at her, slightly confused, but when she leaned forward, he did the same. They kissed gently, tenderly. Arnold felt her lips grow colder as the kiss progressed.

Finally, they drew apart. Arnold could hear sirens in the distance, and wondered again about the blood on Helga's clothes. He looked at her pale skin, and noticed how she struggled to draw breath. He placed a hand on her cold cheek.

"Helga, are you all right?" he asked her again. She smiled weakly.

"I'm out of time, I guess," she whispered. "I love you, Arnold. Always."

Her chest hitched once, twice, three times. Then stopped. Her eyes slowly closed as she fell forward, limply. Arnold caught her, his own heart racing wildly.

"Helga?" he called, gently shaking her. He didn't like how limp she was. "HELGA?" He gently laid her down, placing an ear to her chest. He heard no heartbeat. His heart skipped. "Oh no, Helga, no!" He began CPR on her when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"It's too late, Arnold," Michael told him gently. "She's gone." Arnold whirled on the stranger.

"NO!" he cried, shaking the man's hand off. "She CAN'T be! There's an ambulance coming, I might be able to bring her back and then she'll be okay!" Michael was shaking his head.

"I'm afraid not, Arnold. She gave her life for you." Arnold looked at the man, eyes wide.

"What are you talking about?" he whispered. Michael held out his right hand, which was curled into a fist. He straightened his fingers to reveal a small bullet.

"You died tonight, Arnold," he said softly. "This is the bullet that killed you. It was a horrible accident. I was here to . . . take care of you, but Helga wouldn't let you go. She gave her life so you could live. Her life, for yours." Arnold's jaw dropped.

"So, you're an angel?" he asked hopefully. "So you can bring her back, right?" Michael was shaking his head.

"I've gone through this already with Helga. I don't have the power to bring anyone back. I'm sorry." Arnold shook his head.

"No, I'm not gonna accept that. There has to be something you can do. There HAS to be! PLEASE!" Michael shook his head sadly.

"I'm sorry, Arnold. I can't bring her back." Arnold's mind raced. A determined look spread over his face as an idea surfaced.

"Then take me to HER," he said quietly. Michael looked at him as though he'd lost his mind.

"What?"

"Take me to her. You can't bring her back, right?" Michael shook his head. "Can you send me to where she is?" Michael looked worried.

"Arnold . . ."

"CAN YOU?"

"Yes," Michael sighed. "But you might not be able to make it back. You both could be trapped there for all eternity." Arnold shook his head.

"I don't care. Just do it, please," he said as he took Helga's limp body into his arms. He leaned forward and kissed her cold forehead. "Hang on, Helga. I'm coming."

Michael looked at Arnold for a long moment, then sighed and placed his hand on the teen's head. Arnold jerked, gasping as his heart slowed. Slower. Slower. Finally, for the second time that night, Arnold's heart stopped. He slumped forward, his head coming to rest on top of Helga's. Michael looked from one teen to the other.

"Good luck, Arnold," he whispered as he slowly disappeared. Gerald and Phoebe arrived seconds later, leading the paramedics to the alley.

"He's in here, hurry!" Gerald called as he rushed into the alley. He stopped short when his eyes found his friends. He had just enough time to utter a curse, then catch Phoebe as she passed out.

End of Part 1

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Are ya hooked yet? ;) 


	2. Chapter 2

And now, the conclusion of the angsty/fluffy/ooey gooey lovey stuff that will make your teeth rot.

Arnold and company do not belong to me. But oh, the situations I could put them in if they did . . .

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**FATE**

CONCLUSION

Gerald gently shook Phoebe to wake her as the paramedics placed their friends onto stretchers. They were performing CPR on the teens, trying desperately to find a heartbeat. Phoebe was starting to stir as the paramedics loaded the stretchers into the ambulance.

"C'mon, Phoebs!" Gerald shouted, shaking harder. "They're ready to go!" Phoebe snapped awake fully and practically jumped from Gerald's hands.

"We can't let them go without us!" she cried, running toward the ambulance. Gerald stared after her for a second, then stood and ran after her. She had just reached the passenger door and was talking to the driver.

"Those are our friends, can we come with you?" she asked, her voice surprisingly steady. The driver shook his head decisively.

"Sorry, little lady. No can do," he said, sounding sincerely upset. "There's a cop coming any minute, he can bring you down." Phoebe was in tears.

"You don't understand!" she shouted, her fingers gripping the door tightly. "Helga is my best friend! I HAVE to know if she's going to be all right!" Gerald gently pried her fingers from the door, pulling her back.

"Cool it, honey, come on," he soothed. "We might be in the way right now. We'll wait for the cop." He looked back at the driver. "Get them to the hospital. NOW."

"C'MON, JOE!" a paramedic screamed from the back. "LET'S GET A MOVE ON!" The driver, Joe, nodded slightly, then threw the vehicle into drive and took off like a shot. Gerald and Phoebe watched it pull away, carrying their best friends to the hospital. They held each other like scared children.

"Do you think they'll be okay?" she asked quietly. "They looked . . . " Gerald turned her face to his chest to stop her from saying the word they both dreaded.

"I know, sweetie," he said, his voice shaky. "Let's just hope we got here in time. Let's pray the doctors can bring them back from . . . where ever they are."

Phoebe nodded against his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt. Tears dropped from Gerald's eyes, landing in Phoebe's dark hair.

"Come back to us, guys," he whispered as the police car turned the corner. "Please."

Helga opened her eyes to a clear blue sky. She sat up and looked around her, breathing in the stale air. She was in what appeared to be a desert. But there was nothing here that was in a normal desert—no rocks, no cacti, no little animals scurrying for shelter. Just sand. Miles and miles of sand as far as she could see. She sighed as she stood.

"Well, I said I didn't care where I went," she said aloud as she slowly turned in a circle to get a lay of the land. "So, here I am. I wonder what I'm supposed to do here . . . " She trailed off as her eyes happened upon something in the distance. Something that shimmered.

"Well, I guess I should go check that out," she said, walking toward it. "What else am I gonna do?" Her feet puffed up small clouds of dust as she walked.

She closed the distance quickly, and in minutes she recognized the image for what it was. It was what appeared to be a very large pool of liquid. It didn't look like water—it was too silvery. The surface rippled softly, even though there was no breeze.

She reached it, shielding her eyes against the glare it reflected from the sun. It was as if a mirror were lying on the ground.

_Man! _she thought. _I'm gonna go blind in about a minute!_

As if reading her thoughts, the liquid changed, muting the reflected sunlight. She lowered her hand and moved closer. Her own reflection looked back as she leaned over and gazed into the surface. She rolled her eyes.

"Great," she smirked. "An eternity here and all I have to look at is my own reflection. THAT'S interesting."

Suddenly, the pool flashed a bright light into her eyes. Helga's reflection disappeared as the surface churned. When it quieted, the image had changed to one of a hospital delivery room. Her mother was on the table, her legs held in stirrups. She screamed in pain, as Bob looked on, a hopeful expression on his face. Miriam screamed again, and was answered by the cry of a baby. Helga's eyes widened.

"It's my birth," she whispered. "I'm watching myself being born." The child let out an almost earsplitting shriek as the doctors and nurses cleaned her.

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Pataki," the delivery doctor said as he brought the baby to its parents. "It's a girl."

Miriam looked very tired, but very happy. She smiled lovingly at her new daughter as she held the baby to her chest. The baby lay there quietly, enjoying the warmth from her mother.

"My little girl," Miriam whispered to the child. "My sweet little girl. Olga was always Daddy's little girl, but you, you will be mine."

Helga leaned back and wiped at her cheeks. They were wet with tears. She never knew her mother cared about her so much. Her heart suddenly ached for her mother. How she wished she could see her, one more time.

"Another girl, huh?" Bob grunted, bringing Helga's attention back to the pool. "Jeez, Miriam." His wife frowned.

"She's our daughter, Bob, and I love her," she said quietly. Bob rolled his eyes as he took the baby from her arms.

"Well, Olga is a girl and look how SHE turned out," he said, holding the baby awkwardly. "I guess this one could be just as big a winner as her sister." The baby voiced a sharp cry. Miriam sighed tiredly.

"Bob, I don't want you to push her like you push Olga," she said, taking the baby back. The child calmed instantly. "Can't she just be whoever she wants?" Bob looked at his wife sharply.

"HEY! This kid is a PATAKI! Pataki's are WINNERS!" he boomed, making everyone on the delivery room look. The doctor approached the family.

"I'm sorry to cut this short, but we should really be getting this little darling checked out and cleaned up. And you need your rest, Miriam," he said, taking the baby from her arms. "Have you decided on a name for this little sweetheart?" Miriam opened her mouth to say something, when Bob interrupted her.

"Helga." Miriam looked at him sharply.

"Bob, that's too close to 'Olga'. You'll get them confused. How about Geraldine?" He rolled his eyes.

"I HATE that name, and what's wrong with Helga?"

"I LIKE Geraldine," his wife insisted.

"We are NOT naming her that. We are naming her HELGA."

"Geraldine."

"HELGA!"

The doctor listened as the two argued for a minute, then held up a hand.

"Hold on, hold on. Why not name her Helga Geraldine? You could still call her Geraldine if you wanted to, lots of people go by their middle names." Miriam sighed, too tired to argue the point any further. Bob smiled smugly.

Helga frowned. Her dad had gotten his way. Again. Anger boiled up inside her. Why did he ALWAYS have to have HIS way?

As if in response to her emotions, the pool churned again. This time when it cleared, it showed her house. Miriam was on the floor, playing with a young Helga. The little girl laughed happily as her mother tickled her tiny feet. Suddenly Bob appeared in the doorway.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "You should be teaching her to read or something." Miriam glared at her husband.

"I'm playing with her, Bob," she said, looking angry. "I want her to have the childhood Olga never had because YOU pushed her too hard and too fast." Bob rolled his eyes.

"Oh, for criminey's sake, Miriam," he said, walking in and picking the little girl up. "You're being too soft on the girl. You want her to be some sort of soft headed little wimp of a girl?" Miriam stood up and looked her husband in the eyes.

"Letting her be a child will not make her 'soft headed'," she said through gritted teeth. "You made Olga grow up too fast because of your precious 'winning' attitude. I want Helga to have every chance to be a kid. And I don't want YOU to take it away from her." Bob rolled his eyes again.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Miriam," he said as he walked out of the room. Helga reached over his shoulder toward her mother, looking like she was about to cry. Miriam watched as Bob took her daughter away, knowing full well that she had lost any chance of giving Helga a 'normal' childhood. Once Bob set his mind to something, that was that.

Bob had tried making Helga 'perfect' like her sister, but Helga would have nothing to do with him. She tried pulling away from him, only to have him pull her back, trying harder to make her learn more, learn faster. As father and daughter played tug of war with Helga's willpower, Miriam started sinking into a state of depression. She had lost her children to Bob's overwhelming sense of accomplishment, his urge to make them the BEST. Soon she stopped caring much about anything.

Once Bob realized that Helga wasn't interested in being perfect like her sister, he lost interest in her. He refocused his sights on Olga, who at the time was showing remarkable talent at the piano.

"I remember that . . ." Helga whispered as the pool showed her sister on the piano, while her parents stood in the background watching. Helga was three then, and just a week into preschool.

The pictures started speeding up, showing Helga asking her father to take her to preschool, showing him ignoring her in favor of her sister, showing Helga leaving the house to walk to school alone. Showing the car splashing mud on her. Showing the dog stealing her lunch box. Showing the rain as it soaked her little body. Seeing these images brought back the same emotions she felt on that very day.

"That's the day I first started hating him," she said, tears coming to her eyes. "The day I first started hating HER. Why didn't anyone care about me?"

Then the pool showed her as she neared the preschool. Showed a car pull up beside her and an umbrella appear over her head. Showed her the first time she had laid eyes on Arnold. Both the past and present Helga smiled as he complimented her bow.

Then it flashed to later that day. Harold had just taken her snack, and Arnold offered his to her. She smiled, and sighed happily. Then Harold and some of the other kids had started making fun of her. And she had done something she had always regretted. She had done something she had hated herself for later.

She acted like her father.

She pushed Harold down and jumped on his belly. She stepped through Phoebe's blocks. She threatened Harold with his finger paints and smacked Brainy. Her father had always said, 'You're a Pataki, and Pataki's don't show signs of weakness.' And her feelings for Arnold were her weakness.

"He made me just like him," she said softly, tears flowing down her cheeks. "I've turned into the thing I hated most. My father."

The images in the pool sped up, showing her every horrible, nasty, mean thing she had ever done. Every time she had punched Brainy. Every time she belittled one of her friends. Every time she threatened someone. Every time she was pushy, bossy, and overbearing. Every time she acted like Big Bob.

"I've done such horrible things," she said. "I was such a jerk."

Suddenly the pool cleared, showing her reflection once more. And someone else's reflection as well. Arnold was standing right behind her. Her eyes grew wide when she saw him.

"ARNOLD!" she cried, spinning around. "What are you DOING here?" He smiled and pulled her into his arms for a tight hug. Surprised, and a little confused, Helga hugged him back. After a moment, they pulled back.

"What are you doing here?" she asked again. "Michael brought you back--"

"Because you gave your life for me, I know. He explained everything," Arnold said, nodding. "But I couldn't let you do that. I care about you too much, Helga. I couldn't stand losing you." He smiled widely, and hugged her again.

"But that's why I did what I did," she argued. "I love you more than anything. And looking back on all the terrible things I've done, I guess it was the least I could do." He shook his head.

"That pool is only showing you the bad things you did. It isn't showing you the good stuff." She looked confused again.

"Arnold, what good stuff?" she almost moaned. "All I've ever done is be a jerk and a major bully to everyone. Especially you." He shook his head again.

"You've done some wonderful things, Helga. I know you have."

In response to this statement, the pool churned and showed Helga as she told off Olga's lying fiancé, Doug. It showed her as Cecile, comforting Arnold when he realized he didn't like Ruth like he thought he did. Showed her returning his little blue hat to him when he had lost it.

Finally, it showed her working hard with Mr. Bailey late on Christmas Eve. She had given up her snow boots to him, so he would find Mr. Hyunh's daughter. It showed her standing outside the boarding house, near tears because she had given Arnold what he had most wanted for Christmas. A gift for Mr. Hyunh.

Arnold looked shocked at this last scene. He had no idea it was Helga who had made that reunion possible. He looked at her, eyes wide.

"That was YOU?" he whispered. "YOU were the reason Mr. Bailey found Mai?" She blushed slightly, then nodded. "Why didn't you ever tell me?" She shrugged.

"That wouldn't have fit with my bully reputation," she said simply. "Besides, I wasn't ready to tell you how much I cared for you. It's kinda funny that I never had the courage to tell you until I was at death's door. Now it's too late to do anything about. I'm so sorry, Arnold." Tears formed at the corners of her eyes again, and Arnold wiped them away carefully.

"Don't cry, Helga. Please don't cry. I hate seeing you so sad," he said softly. "You just weren't ready to tell me, that's all. At least you DID. I never got the chance." It was Helga's turn to look shocked.

"What?" she whispered. He smiled guiltily.

"I've been thinking about you a lot lately, Helga. I always smile when I do. And I always feel really happy when we're together. I guess what I'm trying to say is . . . I love you, Helga. I just never realized I felt that strongly toward you until I thought I had lost you forever. That's why I'm here. I couldn't stand thinking of you all alone someplace, so I made Michael send me to you." He laid a hand on her cheek, pulling her close. "I love you, Helga Pataki. And I don't want to lose you. Not now, not ever." Helga's tears came faster as she reached forward and pulled him close. They hugged tightly for a long time.

"I knew you would find her, Arnold," Michael said, making them jump. "I'm very proud of you both. Well done." The two looked at him, confused.

"What are you talking about?" Helga asked. "Why are you proud of us?"

"Only those pure of heart can survive here," Michael explained. "If a person has one doubt about their love for someone, just ONE doubt, their souls are sent to be reincarnated. Sort of like an afterlife recycling plant." Helga still looked a bit confused.

"Well, then what's this pool for? Why was it showing me my life?" Michael smiled again.

"It helped you realize why you feel the way you do about your father and sister. It showed you why you became a 'bully' in the first place. And it showed Arnold some of the things he needed to know. Things you probably wouldn't have told him." He cocked his head and looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Don't you feel better after seeing all that? Don't you feel a little differently toward your mother?" Helga thought for a second, then nodded.

"I guess I do. I never knew my mom could be so . . . forceful. Until the big ox bullied her, that is. I guess we have alot to talk about." Her face fell when she realized what she said. "I mean, we WOULD have, if this hadn't happened." Arnold was looking at Michael shrewdly.

"We're not really stuck here, are we?" he asked. "We can go back, can't we? You're here to send us back." Michael shook his head slowly.

"I've already told you, I don't have the power to bring anyone back to life. However . . ." He trailed off, a slight smile forming at the corners of his mouth. The teens exchanged a glance and stepped closer to him.

"'However', what?" Helga asked. "What do we have to do?"

"Only those pure of heart, and sure of their love can return to life. And you can only do it by leaving this place the same way you came," Michael said, backing away. The teens exchanged another glance.

"What do you mean, 'the same way you came'?" Arnold asked. "I don't know how I got here! I just opened my eyes and that was it." Michael was starting to disappear.

"Leave the same way you came . . ." he said, his voice echoing as he vanished completely.

"Great. Now he's the Cheshire Cat," Arnold grumbled as he walked back to Helga. "Do you have any idea what he meant?" Helga was deep in thought.

"Well, he already said we were pure of heart and we are sure of our love, right?" Arnold nodded. "Now all we have to do is figure out the way we came in." Arnold sighed, his hands running through his hair.

"But we don't KNOW where we came in. How can we leave the same way if we don't know where we came in at in the first place?" Helga's fingers played restlessly with the bottom of her shirt as her mind raced.

_The same way we came in, _she thought. _But Arnold's right, we don't know WHERE we came in. We just appeared and that was it. How are we--_

Her eyes widened as a thought hit her. Her fingers stopped suddenly. Arnold noticed the change and took her hands.

"Helga? What's wrong?" he asked, sounding worried. She looked at him, her eyes still wide at the thought of a possible solution.

"Maybe he doesn't mean WHERE we came in, but HOW we came in." He looked at her, slightly confused. She gave his hands a little squeeze. "Arnold, think about it. HOW did we get here?" He thought for a second, then his eyes widened as he understood.

"We died. That's how we got here. That's the way we came in, and the way we can leave." His face darkened as the thought worked its way in deeper. "But CAN we die here?" Helga shrugged.

"We must be able to. Otherwise Michael wouldn't have told us that, right?" Arnold thought and nodded.

"I guess you're right. But how are we gonna do it? There are no weapons, and it would take us days to starve to death. If we even CAN starve here. So, how?" Helga thought for a second, then looked toward the pool.

"We can drown. It wouldn't exactly be my first choice if given one, but it would be fairly quick and painless. Besides, what other choice do we have?" Arnold looked at her for a moment, then pulled her in for another hug.

"We have no other choice. It will have to be this." They pulled back and stood at the edge of the liquid, holding hands. "Ready?" he asked. She nodded.

"I love you, Arnold," she said, giving his hand a slight squeeze.

"I love you, Helga," he replied, squeezing back. They kissed for luck, then stepped forward.

They sank straight down, and kept sinking for what seemed to be miles. The deeper they went the faster they moved. The liquid was extremely clear, they could see each other perfectly. They still held hands, and now reached forward and clasped their other hands together tightly. They sank deeper.

Arnold nodded slightly, then emptied his lungs of the air left in them. Helga did the same. Then they inhaled the strange liquid, tasting its alien flavor, filling their lungs with it, taking it into their stomachs. Their bodies screamed for air, and the two wrapped their arms around each other to keep from struggling back to the surface.

Deeper they sank, the light draining from the space around them. Deeper. Darker. Deeper. Darker. The last thing either one saw before the darkness over came their bodies and their minds, were the eyes of the one they loved. Then, nothing.

Phoebe and Gerald had arrived at the hospital minutes after the ambulance. The paramedics had still been trying to coax a heartbeat from the young people's chests. The lifeless teens had been rushed into the emergency room, where a team of doctors and nurses were waiting.

Three minutes later, the doctors were still working, still trying to breathe life back into the two. They had tried everything at their disposal. Nothing had worked. The heart monitors connected to the teens remained flat lined. The doctor working over Arnold shook his head sadly, taking off his gloves.

"It's no good," he said, gaining the attention of the whole team. "It's been too long. I'm gonna call it."

The doctors and nurses stood back, removing their gloves and looking incredibly disappointed. They didn't like to admit defeat. The doctor looked up at the clock.

"Time of death, 10:0--" The doctor was interrupted by the faint beep of Arnold's heart monitor. He looked down at it with wide eyes. "What the . . .?" It beeped again.

"Oh my god," a nurse whispered. Everyone watched as it beeped twice more. And again. In a few seconds, Arnold's heart was beating regularly. His chest expanded as he took a deep breath.

Then he was sitting upright, coughing violently and knocking various medical instruments to the floor. He bent over and spat a mouthful of the alien liquid onto the floor. It shimmered for a second, then became ordinary tap water.

Once his coughing fit had passed, Arnold inhaled again, filling his lungs and nostrils with the faint smell of hospital antiseptic. He believed it was the best thing he had ever smelled in his life.

"WE'RE BACK!" he shouted, making two nurses run. "HELGA! WE'RE BACK!" He looked around and saw Helga still lying on the table on the other side of the room. The smile dropped from his lips.

Helga was motionless. Lifeless.

"NO!" he screamed, jumping down and running over to her. "NO, HELGA, NO! C'MON, GET UP!" He took her limp body into his arms, hugging her close. "Please, Helga, please! Don't do this to me, we've come so far! Wake up, love, please wake up!" No response from her. None at all.

Arnold began to cry, hugging her tightly and slowly rocking back and forth. He leaned forward and kissed her lips tenderly. His tears were falling onto her face, and he wiped them away with a trembling hand. His fingers brushed her eyelashes, and her lid fluttered slightly. Arnold stopped cold.

"Helga?" he whispered. "Helga, come on. Wake up."

The corner of her mouth jerked slightly and her body began to tremble. Arnold sat back and held her as she coughed harshly, forcing the liquid from her lungs. She voided a small amount to the floor, which shimmered slightly, then dimmed to water. She drew deep breaths, and coughed again, spitting out more 'water'. Then she was gasping, taking in breath after breath of the hospital air. Her blue eyes finally opened, at first confused and scared. Then they fell upon Arnold, and they cleared immediately. They gazed at each other, happy to have found each other, happy to be alive.

"Oh, Helga," he whispered. "You had me so scared." He pulled her close, and the two hugged tightly. "I thought I'd lost you again." She smiled.

"You're not gonna lose me THAT easily, Football Head," she whispered back. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me for quite a while." He smiled and hugged her tighter.

"Good. I wouldn't mind spending an eternity with you, my love," he said, making her smile wider. "I wouldn't mind that at all."

The two sat and hugged for a long time. The doctors and nurses stood and watched the scene in shocked silence.

An hour later, Arnold and Helga were in a room together. The doctors insisted they stayed so they could run some 'tests'. Gerald and Phoebe had practically fainted from happiness to see their friends alive and well, (Phoebe was in tears and Gerald looked like he was about to start any second) and were now sitting between the beds, smiling and chatting with their best friends.

Suddenly, the door flew open and the teen's families burst in.

"Arnold!" Phil shouted, running over to his grandson's bedside. "Are you all right, Short Man?" Gertie was on the other side of the bed, feeling Arnold's forehead. Arnold smiled.

"I'm fine, Grandpa, really." he said, as Gertie examined his teeth.

"He looks healthier than a Champion Racehorse, Phil," she announced. Phil rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, thanks for that, I was so worried he wouldn't be able to run next week," he muttered to her. She stuck her tongue out at him, making Arnold smile. He glanced over to Helga's bed, and watched as her mother took her hand.

"Oh, honey!" she cried, holding Helga's hand to her chest. "You had us so worried! When your friend Phoebe called us and told us where you were, we didn't know what to think!" Bob nodded, looking a little worried.

"Yeah, girl. You really had us scared for a minute," he said in a surprisingly soft tone. "What happened?" Helga shrugged.

"I don't really remember. It's all kinda fuzzy."

"That's understandable," a voice said as a doctor entered the room. "I'm Dr. White. I was one of the attending doctors when you two came in. I must say, this case is quite extraordinary."

"What do you mean, Doc?" Phil asked, placing a protective hand on Arnold's shoulder.

"Perhaps we should discuss this outside?" Dr. White suggested. Helga frowned.

"Look Doc, anything you have to say about us, you say TO us. We're big kids, we can handle it. Right, Arnold?" she asked, looking across the room. Arnold met her gaze and smiled, nodding.

"Right, Helga. Spill it, Doctor."

The doctor looked from face to face, then sighed.

"All right. To be perfectly frank, you two shouldn't be here. You were clinically dead for more than 5 minutes. I was about to call time of death when Arnold here suddenly . . . well, came back to life. It's amazing that neither one of you experienced any brain damage."

"Well, I can't speak for the other kid, but my daughter is a Pataki!" Bob said, smiling broadly. "Pataki's don't give up easily, do they kiddo?" Helga smiled.

"Nope. We don't know the meaning of the word 'quit'. We're way to stubborn to quit anyway." Everyone laughed.

"How much longer do they have to stay here, Dr?" Miriam asked once the laughter had died down. Dr. White shrugged.

"We have a few more tests we would like to run, and if they come back normal, then they're free to go. But it's been a rather long night for these two, why don't we give them a little quiet time?" he said, ushering the families out.

"Okay, stay tough Short Man!" Phil said, playfully punching Arnold in the arm. Arnold smiled and punched him back.

"I will, Grandpa," he said as Gertie kissed his cheek. Gerald clapped a hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"You really had me scared for a minute there, you know that don't you?" he said quietly. Arnold smiled.

"I know. I'm sorry." Gerald waved a hand.

"Don't sweat it. Just don't do anything like that EVER again, okay?" he said, looking into Arnold's eyes. Arnold laughed.

"I won't. Scout's honor." They did their secret handshake and Gerald followed Arnold's grandparents out.

"Be brave, Helga." Miriam said, kissing Helga's forehead. Helga smiled.

"I will Mom."

"Don't let any of these throw pillows push ya around, okay girl?" Bob said, sounding gruff. Then his face softened and he leaned forward. "If you need anything, just give a yell, okay?" he said softly. Helga smiled and nodded.

"I will, Dad," she whispered. He gave her a quick kiss on the top of the head, then turned and joined his wife in the hallway. Phoebe shyly walked over to her best friend.

"I was so scared, Helga. I thought you were . . . "

"I know, Phoebe. But I'm not," Helga said, smiling gently. Phoebe smiled back, then leaned forward and hugged the blonde tightly. Helga hugged her back, fighting the tears that threatened behind her eyes.

Phoebe pulled back and walked over to Gerald, who was waiting by the door. Then they left and it was just Arnold and Helga.

"Quite a night, huh Helga?" Arnold asked quietly. Helga smiled and nodded.

"Yup. Really interesting," she said, then frowned. "Arnold? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. Shoot."

"How much do you remember? After the mugging, after the car backfiring, what comes next?" she asked. Arnold thought hard for a moment, then shrugged.

"I don't really remember. Gerald said I was shot. I kinda remember lying on the ground in the alley, and I sort of remember you sitting over me crying. But after that . . ." He shrugged again. "How much do you remember?"

"Bits and pieces. It's starting to fade, like a dream. I think I remember a man, what was his name? Mickey? Marty?" Her brow wrinkled as she thought. She shook her head after a minute. "I don't remember. Why is that?" Arnold shrugged.

"Maybe it was a little too stressful and our minds blocked it out. I think getting shot would classify as a 'stressful' situation," he said smiling. She giggled.

"I guess so. But the one thing I'm sure of is how much I love you." He smiled and nodded.

"I love you, too. I'm just sorry I waited so long to figure it out."

"That's okay, Arnold. I'm just glad you did."

The two smiled at each other for a moment, then leaned back and fell asleep. They slept the rest of the night through, and were released the next morning.

As they were changing to leave, Arnold called Helga over. He had his jeans on, and was about to put on his shirt when he noticed the thing he wanted to show her.

"What is it?" she asked, looking at his chest. "It looks like a scar." He nodded.

"I know, but I didn't have it when I left the house yesterday."

"But it looks like an old one," Helga argued. "You don't suppose that was where you got shot last night, do you?"

"I don't know. But I don't think I heal THAT fast. How would I get a scar in a day?" She shrugged. "What exactly HAPPENED to us last night, Helga?"

"I don't know, Arnold. But I'm beginning to think it was some kind of miracle. I just wish I could remember it."

"Me too," Arnold agreed. He checked all his pockets out of habit and was surprised to find something on one of the front ones. "Hey, what's this?" He stuck in his hand and pulled out something small and hard. It felt like metal. He opened his hand and discovered a small bullet. His mind flashed back to the alley and the man (Michael) who held it last.

"You died tonight, Arnold. This is the bullet that killed you."

Arnold's eyes widened as the events that had taken place after that flashed through his mind. Helga's death. Their trip to the 'desert'. The pool.

"Arnold?" Helga said, sounding far away. "ARNOLD?" she cried, shaking his shoulders. He blinked hard, then looked at her as the memories disappeared once again.

"What?"

"You scared me. You were so pale and you looked so scared . . ." she started, tears forming in her eyes. Arnold smiled and pulled her close.

"Fear not, my dear," he said, hugging her. "I was just thinking of life without you. That was why I looked scared." She smiled and blushed slightly.

"You're the one who should fear not, Arnold," she said, kissing him. "You'll never lose me. Never."

The two soon finished dressing, and walked out of the hospital, hand in hand. They never fully remembered what had happened that night, and Gerald and Phoebe liked to pretend that night didn't happen at all. Each couple loved each other for a long time, eventually marrying.

Arnold kept that little bullet. It sits in Helga's jewelry box, next to her locket of him.

fini

* * *

Ta da! Dat's it. Bring's a tear to your eye, doesn't it? sniff


End file.
